Echoes of Laibach in Slovenia

Slovenia isn’t the kind of place that screams for your attention. It sits quietly, a nation-sized smirk, carved out of mountains and shadowed history.

Today I find myself in the capital city Ljubljana. While cities such as Bratislava have been depicted as nightmares in movies as Hostel and Eurotrip, Ljubljana is probably so far off the mental map that it rarely gets mentioned at all in western popular culture. But for me, there is one notable exception.

For those of us who remember the Cold War as more than a movie trope, Slovenia was once part of Yugoslavia, a hazy mosaic of concrete dreams and authoritarian wallpaper. Out of that peculiar stew of ideology and decay crawled Laibach. More than just a band, they were an assault. A provocation. The musical equivalent of being slapped with a philosophy textbook and then hugged by a tank.

Laibach was born in the industrial town of Trbovlje, a place known more for coal and gray skies than culture. For some strange reason, the town gave birth to this surreal collective, resembling a Wagnerian fever dream in military drag, equal parts Orwell and MTV.

The Dragon Bridge in Ljubljana. Fire away.

Laibach was met with disdain from the very beginning. Their version of “Life is Life” sounded like it was recorded by a fascist regime that had just discovered karaoke. But it worked, it made you uncomfortable, and that was the point. Art as a weapon. Pop music as political jiu-jitsu.

Even though I’ve been listening to them on and off since 1990, they are still very far away from the mainstream genre. Last time I saw them live some years ago, I enjoyed it a lot, but a friend commented that “they sucked whale balls”. Whatever that means, it’s certainly not something good, but at least they got her attention.

The band recently got a place in the spotlight for making the soundtrack to the movie Iron Sky, but I wouldn’t call them “mainstream” by a longshot. Their new album Spectre was released a month ago and with the recent Russian aggression at Crimea in Ukraine, their music feels more up to date than ever.

Attending Laibach live in 2007.

I didn’t know what to expect, but Ljubljana has been hit by the gentrification assault, just as most other cities in Europe. The streets are filled with designer shops, craft beer and a cute dragon bridge. But if you listen closely, you might still hear Laibach whispering from the shadows, an echo of what once was and will be again.